Unholy Confessions
by EchoCIDE
Summary: How long can a woman deal with abuse from someone she loves, be it physical, emotional or mental? How long before she has to spread her clipped wings and fly from the pain? A little Claire/Wesker one shot/song fic to A7X's Unholy Confessions


** I'll try | **she said as she walked away  
>try not to lose you<br>two vibrant hearts could change

Seven years.

Seven years devoting her life to hiscause, betraying everything that she once held dear.

Seven years spent crushing her brother's heart with her attempts to convince him that _he_ was different now, _he _had changed.

Seven long years standing beside him time after time as he plotted, devised and schemed all of the ways that _he_ would 'cleanse the world of it's imperfection'.

Seven years _lying_ directly to her friend's faces when they would wonder just when another terrible biohazard would occur because of _his_ cruel agenda.

Seven years spent agreeing with him for the sake of the simple fact that yes, she did love him and no, she wasn't leaving him because of this. He would stop, she would say, he would stop.

Seven _goddamn_ years comforting him when his plans would fall through and when he was sick because he had miscalculated the dosage on his ever-expanding viral infection that he diligently needed to make himself 'better, stronger'.

It had been seven years with him, seven years since their elopement behind her brother's back, and she had stood beside him every step of the way. Exactly seven years today.

A weak sigh escaped her lips as her blue eyes transfixed on the calendar that was hanging in the kitchen of their overly large and embellished home. Bending down to remove the high priced black heels from her sore feet something shined on her finger that caught her eye.

The ring was beautiful and it never ceased to amaze her as such everytime she looked at it. A smooth white gold band was the base for three large diamonds, the one in the middle larger than the other two. Her engagement ring.

_'You will be the goddess of my new world, dear heart. I want you by my side when that day comes. Every god needs a goddess.'_

She could hear him in her memory, all those years ago, the words seeming so perfect at the time when he had gotten down on bended knee to take her hand and place it on her finger. She had been so happy that night, so overwhelmed with joy that he wanted her to belong to him that she had been ignorant to the true meaning of those words.

She imagined she had been ignorant to a lot of things during their very difficult marriage, most of them purposeful.

The first two years had been spent in the haze of newlywed bliss and for a while it seemed he had changed. He had stopped spending so much time working, rarely ever spoke of his 'new world' and did the things that a _normal_ husband would do with his wife. Their mornings were spent with wonderful breakfasts talking about all sorts of things, hardly any of them malicious of hateful. Their afternoons, when he wasn't working, were lazy and quiet spent wrapped in eachother's arms on the couch.

Their nights were spent making love until the sun came up and when finally spent he would hold her and tell her just how important she was to him.

It seemed so uncharacteristically him but she didn't mind at all, never thought second of it one bit because that was how it was _supposed_ to be. That was how marriage was meant to be.

Eventually however, things began to fall through. He seemed to lose interest in coming home from work early and spending time with her; he began to babble on and on about how this world was disgusting to him, how humans were repulsive and useless; he started to shut her out.

That was when the fighting started.

**Nothing tears the being | ** more than deception  
>unmasked fear<br>i'll be here waiting, tested and secure

It was never normal newlywed arguements with him, it was never normal anything. Soon it had become violent, some sort of battle over relationship dominance. She had ended up with more bruises and broken bones than she could count.

She was still the only one that he let his guard down long enough to actually hit back.

It never did any damage of course. If she had ever done anything to truly hurt him, his regenerative abilities would repair it so quickly that she doubted even he would notice.

She had stabbed him once, not her greatest moment because it landed her with a broken rib, but in her rage she hadn't been thinking the clearest.

He made her so angry! All of that _bullshit_ about creating a new world from the ashes of this old one, it was a bunch of monologuing god-complex nonsense. She began to see just how blinded he truly was by his power, by his greed.

He would never be a god and the night she had told him that had been the worst yet...

_The door opened slowly and she felt her muscles involuntarily stiffen at the sound of his voice. How could something as simple as his voice cause her to shudder in fright and melt in pure desire at the exact same time? _

_He stood by the door, just as stiff as she, although he was usually always like that. The ever guarded Albert Wesker._

_"How are you feeling?" He asked, his voice seemingly cold but beneath it she could feel the regret he held from hurting her again. Everytime he would hit her and she would hit back and everytime the fire died down he would apologize, blame it on the virus, and say it wouldn't happen if she didn't push him so far._

_"Fine." She lied. Of course she wasn't fine, she could barely sit because the maniac had nearly broken her tailbone by throwing her into the living room wall, but there was no need to tell him that. _

_"Dear heart," He moved to stand behind her, leaning down to her so that their reflections were side by side in the vanity mirror she was sitting at. He placed his hands delicately on her shoulders. She was once again reminded of what an outwardly good looking couple they made, "You know you shouldn't test me and you do-"_

_"That's enough, Albert. I'm tired, all I want to do is go to bed and forget all of this." She breathed. Her cheekbone had swollen and had began to bruise. Well it would be certainly hard to cover _that_ up. She went to turn and break their contact but he held her into place, his eyes gleaming dangerously in the dim light of the room. _

_"Here I am, trying to apologize to you and you cut me off. Why do you continue to try my patience like this? Does it appease you to make me angry?" He hissed, clamping down on her shoulders with more force than what -she thought- was necessary. Her face was schooled into a cold, stoic impression, which seemed to anger him even further. She _had_ learned from the master after all. _

_"If this is your attempt at apologizing then I think you need a few more etiquette lessons. Or did Umbrella not teach you manners when they were pumping you full of-" She couldn't stop the words as they came -even though she regretted every single one as it came out of her mouth- just as she couldn't stop the pain of back of his hand colliding with her face. He could have at least had the courtesy to hit the unmarred side, she thought bitterly.`She fell to the floor from the impact and slowly brought tear filled eyes to his face. There wasn't much light in the room but she could see those fire red pupils as bright as any fluorescent bulb in the dark. His eyes were narrowed and his stance was meant for fighting. _

_"You will learn your place, Claire. I will not sit here and be insulted by my own wife." He hissed. Immediately she bolted to her feet, getting directly in his face -or as close as she could get, she was eye level with his chest._

_"Your wife? Your wife! This," She pointed to her rapidly swelling cheek, "Is not the way to treat your wife!" She turned away from him and swung open the closet, rapidly yanking clothes down and attempting to stuff them in a suitcase, but his voice stopped her cold. _

_"What are you doing?" He seemed somewhat regretful but she knew what he was doing and she was not giving into that again. Guilting her wasn't going to make her stay._

_"Leaving." She threw some more clothes into the case, not even caring that half of them weren't even appropriate for casual wear. In an instant he was by her side, pulling her away from the closet and into his arms. As much as her determined soul screamed for him to let her go so she could just get the hell away, she felt her sore and tired muscles melt into him._

_"I'm sorry, Claire. You know I'm sorry." He held her firmly but gently and she wanted to cry. No he wasn't sorry, yes this would happen again, and no she wasn't leaving. Not tonight._

_She loved him too much._

**Nothing hurts my world | **just affects the ones around me  
>when sin's deep in my blood<br>you'll be the one to fall

"Dear heart," His voice snapped her from her reverie and she looked to him, revelling in every bit of the good looking man she had married. His hair was always perfect, blonde locks not revealing even one strand of gray. She couldn't say the same for herself, she had to dye her hair every month to hide the many silver hairs even though she was only thirty four.

He had slight wrinkles around his face but none of them were deep enough to give away his age. At fifty-three he still looked younger than she was but his heart and his soul were older than the both of them combined. She gave him a tired smile which he returned with his customary slight smirk, "Alise is finally asleep. She kept saying that there were monsters under her bed." He sat down in his usual chair at the grand table.

"What did you tell her?"

"That there are no monsters." He looked at her as if to say, 'what else would I tell her?'. That same familiar mocking look on his face was staring directly at her. He always knew how to make her feel insignificant. She fell silent and for awhile he sat in it with her but he seemed restless, twitchy.

"Is something wrong, Albert?" She had taken to calling him by his first name after they had gotten married although he hadn't seemed to like it at first eventually he grew used to it.

He stood and turned to leave, "I'm going down to the lab to finish up some work."

"Right now?" She asked. She asked the same thing everynight when he went to that infernal place to get away from her.

"Not tonight, Claire. I am very busy." He waved her off as he walked out of the room, that condescending tone ringing in her ears. She heard a door close and put her head in her hands.

How much more of this could she take? How much more?

**I wish I could be the one | **the one who won't care at all

How much more of the god-complex? How much more of the abuse would she take?

**But being the one on the stand | **i know the way to go, no one's got it made

What if he began to act out towards their daughter? Then what would she do? She didn't want to think he would ever do that. All things considered, he was a good father. He was the best father she could expect him to be what with being who he was. Still...

**When time soaked with blood turns it back | **i know it's hard to fall

She couldn't do this anymore, it hurt her too badly to watch him do this, to himself, to her, to their daughter. It was time to leave, once and for all.

**Confided in me was your heart | **i know it's hurting you  
>but it's killing me<p>

Claire had been awfully docile tonight, he pondered as he took his place behind the large chair in his office beneath their home. He knew better than to believe that she was done opposing him. True to her Redfield nature she would never be done, she would never accept what he had longed for. She simply was ignorant to the truth.

When would she understand that he was not destroying the world? He wasn't destroying it, they were, he was going to save it. And they would look up to him as their saviour, the one's who weren't cleansed of course, their god, their righteous leader.

War. Famine. Murder. Drugs. Rape. Infanticide. Patricide. Matricide. Suicide. This planet was rife with filthiness that he would cleanse, the ones who deserved to walk among him would survive when his new world order came to be. He had hoped she would have been beside him but her demeanor was telling him otherwise. He didn't hit her because he enjoyed it, she needed to learn her place and her place was by his side. The queen amongst her servants.

Of course she would argue that he was planning on the exact equivalent of what he despised. Killing millions to stop them from killing themselves, she had said, was not the way to help anyone.

Ignorant woman. Funny how she had seemed so accepting of it in the beginning, though she never was. Perhaps she never thought him serious at all.

**Nothing will last in this life | **our time is spent constructing  
>now you're perfecting a world, meant to sin<p>

Soon enough she would see that he was not one to take lightly. Why couldn't she just understand? He was trying to help, he was sick of how much humans took for granted. They didn't deserve to live if all they did with their lives was destroy. Hatred was his master and he would serve the purpose if it meant he would have to kill everyone in this forsaken world to do so.

**Constrict your hands around me | **squeeze 'til i cannot breathe  
>this air tastes dead inside me<br>contribute to our plague

He finished up his work and went back upstairs to the home they shared. The kitchen and living room were both dark and he found her at the front door, hanging up the phone. Suitcases were settled around her feet and he froze when he saw the little blonde head resting on her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"Where do you think you're going, dear heart?"

Her silence echoed through the house as loud as a bell and she bent down to pick up one of the suitcases, placing her hand on the doorknob.

"I think it's best if I take some time away for awhile. Let you finish your work in peace." She said simply, as if he would simply let her go.

"I see. And just where," He was in front of her in an instant, his hand covering hers on the doorknob, "will you go?"

She shivered at the contact. Damn him for making her weak after all these years. Damn him for breaking her down in the first place. Damn her for letting him.

"I thought I would let Alise see her family. Chris hasn't seen her since she was born." She knew it was unwise to even mention her brother around him. He had been willing to let her speak to him over the years and he had even agreed that as long as Chris didn't get in his way, he would not go out of his way to kill him. But she knew as soon as she watched his eyes brighten behind his shades, she knew she should have lied instead. Even though he would have known anyway.

**Break all your promises | **tear down this steadfast wall  
>restraints are useless here<br>tasting salvation's near

"I don't think that's a good idea, dear heart. Hand me Alise, she needs to go back to her bed." His tone left no room for arguement though his voice was calm, he did not want to wake their daughter. At only four, Alise Alexandra Wesker was exhibiting the same cunning intelligence as her father. She was the most important of all his achievements, she would carry on his legacy should something happen to him. Already she knew the basic things a child of sixteen years would know and then several things they wouldn't. Her excellent vocabulary and mathematical skills as well as her advanced knowledge of science placed her at a level even higher than Alexia Ashford had been. She had spoken her first words at three months, crawled at five months, walked at seven months, held conversations at one year and was now on a reading level above an average college senior. She had been a scientific novel, the genius Wesker child, her highlights talked about through all the largest and prestigious universities. At only three years of age, she already had her place at any university in the world when the time came. When Wesker had her IQ tested a year ago she had ranked at over 200, only slightly higher than the Ashford girl

Even though she was a marvel she was still a child and he didn't want her to be in the room when the little scuffle that was sure to come about would.

"N-No. I'm leaving." Claire said as defiantly as she could manage, but he knew she was afraid. She'd be a fool not to be.

"Dear heart-"

"No! Don't you even begin to talk to me in that condescending shit! I'm not a child, Albert!"

"I wouldn't treat you like a child if you didn't insist on acting like one." He hissed through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down as to not wake the little girl on her mother's shoulder. It didn't make much of a difference when her big blue eyes opened and she looked to him questioningly.

"Daddy, Momma," She yawned, "What's going on?"

"Nothing, darling." Wesker soothed, his face calm but his eyes were burning fiercely into Claire, making her shift uncomfortably as she buried her face into the soft blonde locks of her baby.

"Hey sweetie. How about we go on a little trip huh?" She could feel Wesker's eyes narrow but she focused on Alise. The little girl's eyes lit up happily.

"Really? Are we going to see Uncle Chris? Can Daddy come?" She looked to Wesker and could have sworn she saw him flinch. He looked uncomfortable and somehow she felt guilty.

"No, baby. Daddy has work to do. It'll be just you and me."

"Oh...I want Daddy to come too." She said sadly and wiggled down to the floor.

Wesker took off his sunglasses and bent down so he was eye-level with his daughter. Alise had inherited his eyes and golden hair but her face mirrored that exactly of her mother and her uncle. Still she was the most beautiful child.

"Alise why don't you run upstairs and get some more of your things. I want to talk to your mother."

Without hesitance the little girl bolted up the stairs excitedly leaving the living room tense once more. Claire's eyes were fixed to the floor as she tried to avoid the burning glare her husband was shooting at her. She wished he still had his customary hidden gaze. In seconds she felt herself pressed against his front, his arms squeezing her tightly

**Nothing hurts my world | **just affects the ones around me  
>when sin's deep in my blood<br>you'll be the one to fall

"Wesker-" She sighed desperately, happy that he felt no need to harm her this time

"Go on your little trip, dear heart. We both know you'll be back." He seemed so sure, she felt herself unsure. Would she be back? Probably. Would they fight again? Most likely. Would he ever stop his plans? No.

**I wish I could be the one | **the one who won't care at all

"I can't keep doing this." Her voice is quiet against his chest but he hears her perfectly as her small hands fist into his shirt. She clings to him and they both know why.

**But being the one on the stand | **i know the way to go, no ones got it made

"I fail to see what it is you're doing. You can't change me, dear heart." His voice echoes in her brain and she wants to cry. She inhales his scent deeply.

**When time soaked with blood turns it's back | **i know it's hard to fall

"I know. I'm not going to try anymore. There's no point, is there any point for us to be in your life anymore, Albert?" She pulls away from him as the little blonde bounds down the stairs and into her father's arms. He hugs her tightly and tells her to be good for her mother. No he won't keep Claire today because he knows she can't stay away. Her place is by his side and it always will be. He watches at the door as she leaves, puts the child in her booster seat in the car he bought her and stops to look at him, her blue eyes full of moisture while his are dry. Her voice is caught in her throat, he knows what she wants to say, and that it's pointless. He would never say it back. He never did. He wasn't a man who showed his emotions like that. The car started and she drove out of the driveway slow, leaving him behind, his haunting eyes following her down the road, saying everything that he didn't need to speak.

'You belong to me, dear heart. Don't think I'll ever let you forget that.'

**Confided in me was your heart | **i know it's hurting you  
>but it's killing me<p>

_**A/N: **__Just a little one shot I felt like writing up. Consider it a gift from me to you guys for all of your dedication. Thanks for staying with me, all of you._


End file.
